


Sagittarian Summer

by KhaleesiCas (rochelle_tfw)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Centaur Castiel, Centaur Dean, Centaurs, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Dean, SPN Kink Meme, Trials, True Mates, courting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rochelle_tfw/pseuds/KhaleesiCas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/88207.html?thread=34391951#t34391951">this</a> super cute kink meme prompt.</p><p>"This was him; Castiel could feel it. This was his true mate, and he was magnificent."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I super duper haven't read this over yet because it's ass o'clock but I'll edit in the morning.  
> Enjoy  
> ❤

The crunch of fresh green sounded under hooves as Castiel passed through Goddess' hallowed forest. He winced.  Mother had often scolded him for his lack of grace.  _"A soundless step ensures a sound stomach, Castiel"_  she would tell him, striking the backs of his clumsy legs until the message sank in. She'd compare him to brother Michael then. Lamenting and pitying herself, asking Goddess why her second born didn't live up to brother Michael's standards. He didn't miss her for that. However now, left with the responsibility of his own survival, his hunger is a stark reminder that he should have taken the old woman's teachings at face value while he still could. He lacks the elegance of a hunter. The lithe, sure footing. The steady aim and primed vision. The silent speed and agility. At best he has a good right swing and a sturdy grip on his bow. Not even halfway decent.

As he suspects will happen, his prey scares, and scampers back into the shelter of underbrush to safety. His stomach gurgles again in complaint at his incoordination, sensing for itself that its meal has departed. He tells it to shut up.

His journey has been long and daunting, and he has travelled for what may seem to him like three moons cycles, but realistically is only one. He has no choice, this is a rite of passage for an Alpha of his age, and while he may dislike the isolation, and the bone deep tiredness, and the raw emptiness of his gut; he can appreciate the beauty of the Goddess' forest. He draws comfort from the rich, earthy scent of her blessed grounds. There are always plentiful harvests and a wealth of life as a result. Waters never run dry in this land; they've been known to offer healing to those who were in need, Goddess' mercy on her beloved creations. A sense of closeness to her lingers here, as if she is always watching just out of view, and Castiel relishes in it undeniable beauty.

He shouldn't be disappointed, he knows there's a divine teaching to his failure at hunting, and that all is not lost — there are berry bushes in the clearing, back in the direction of the river he been following -- but he longs for the unobtainable appeasement of the taste of meat. He's grown tired of the flat flavour of the sagittaria tubers he pulls from the river beds, and berries offer little difference in nutrition, but it'll settle his stomach until new light, where he might try his hand at stalking prey once more. Peeved at himself, he resolves to turn around, to restock his depleted helping of berries for his journey ahead.

♐

The water he bathes in when he wakes at new light has calls to him. It soothes his hind legs from the ache of sleeping in a bad position all dark, from where he slept in a rocky cavern. Another lesson learnt it seems.

The cool river water sloshes down his defined torso and glistens where it sits at his waist, as he rubs his unruly dark hair vigorously; wanting to look his best on the off chance that today is the day he meets his mate. He likes to think his chances are in his favour. "Mate" he says, testing the word on his tongue. It tastes of hope, of possibility.  His gravelly voice is swallowed by a strong gust of wind and the song of blue jays. Behind that he can hear the distant melody of a nearby festival. The laughter and clapping and instruments have piqued his interest and this light he'll join the neighbouring village in search of his mate. He knows that the festivities are to celebrate the coming of age of this year’s alphas.

Different villages practiced different ceremonies, but always at the same time of year, the ninth moon, and were expected to be with mates by the close of Sagittarian summer — the eleventh moon. The ritual of his village was a send off for new alphas, those who'd hit their first rut after the deadline of last year’s Sagittarian moon, and trust that they'd learned life skills enough to survive on their own. Castiel was a late bloomer, as similar in many aspects, and had only hit rut in his eighteenth year, but he knew this was an advantage. Many who presented earlier in their youth, and were sent off, never made it back, the trail through wilderness at times too arduous for young alphas to make it on their own. There was always a few every year, who never returned. Mothers had taken ill with the grief one their lost ones. It was trial for a reason. Survival of the fittest applied greatly.

Judging by the sounds of celebration, this village’s ceremony went a little differently.

The centaur stepped out of the shallows and let the water drip down onto the damp bank beneath him; his black fur twinkled and reflected gold and blue in the warm sunshine. He let his ears lead him, air drying his fur, and collecting his bow, quiver and satchel from the tree he'd hid them in, until he reached a beaten track, which turned to cobbles, the longer he followed it. The hum of music and chatter rose as time passed until he reached a plaza in the village centre, decorated in purple and yellow ribbons falling from yellow stone buildings. In the plaza's centre sat a fountain of two centaurs twisted around each other, locked in a loving gaze, with clear water spurting from their arrows — one of whom Castiel suspected was an interpretation of Goddess. The clapping and laughing sourced to just behind the fountain. A group of omegas were dancing amongst each other to light hearted music, smiling, flirting and winking at alphas who watched from the sidelines. A few alphas were dragged into the mix by some brave omegas, to join them in dance, and Castiel received a few curious smiles from the locallers.

They must have thought him mysterious for his colouring — Dark, where they were bay, or cremello or dun. Though as he watched on, he couldn't help feel a little dissatisfied. These omegas were beautiful, radiant, but he had assessed each one, and no one who caught his eye held it before he lost interest. They were all slightly off. Yet contrarily to his scrutiny he could feel a tug from his core to something he couldn't find, an infernal itch under his skin telling him to look harder.

Frustrated with his non-success, he prepared to leave, and continue on with his search, when in the corner of the crowd, he saw him. A flaxen chestnut omega was leant up against a wall, swaying to the beat of the tune. He had glowing tan skin and freckles littered his cheeks and shoulders. The omegas emerald eyes were bright and inquisitive, as if this was all new to him, and his hair was a dirty blonde, and as golden as the sun.

This was him; Castiel could feel it. This was his true mate, and he was magnificent.

With renewed courage, Castiel straightened and began to tread towards the omega — his mate. The hope he had felt from earlier sparked and ignited in the presence of this remarkable omega. Just _looking_ at him set Castiel's heart ablaze. He didn't even  _know_  him. Caught up in his thoughts of how he should introduce himself, and what he should say — this was going to be his mate’s first impression of him after all — it took too long to notice that the omega wasn't alone. A large tobiano alpha — much larger than Castiel — stood solid by his side, with his long brown hair shining in the light where it rested on his broad shoulders, and his hazel eyes narrowed at not only Alphas, but Betas who dared come in a ten foot radius of them. And there were plenty of those. The alpha was near constantly his protecting his companion, and at one point even chased a determined alpha half way across the plaza. This all appeared to go unnoticed by the omega, who was perfectly content to hum and sway along with or without his alpha.

Castiel stopped in his tracks. _His_ alpha. Maybe his mate was being protected because he had already found someone else. The thought of his true mate already being mated by some other Alpha that wasn’t him, made his blood boil, already feeling possessive of his omega, but then again, his mate deserved to be happy, and he certainly seemed content.

Still frozen in place, thinking, he looked up to catch the jewel green eyes staring openly at him. The omega looked similar to a deer in headlights for a few seconds, before remembering himself and dropping his gaze, with his cheeks down to his shoulders blazing scarlet. Cas smiled in amusement. He smiled even more when the omega looked back up, and then realising Cas was still watching, returned to staring at his hooves.

His alpha ma—friend was still gone. What would be the harm in just talking to him, Cas reasoned. He finished his walk up to the omega receiving a deeper blush in response. It was absolutely adorable.

"You're not dancing." began Cas.

"You're right. I'm not." curtly replied the omega and , and Cas was loathe to admit it but the timber of his voice sent a shiver down his spine.

He tried again.

"Why not?  All the other omegas are."

The omega chuckled to himself, and Castiel wondered what he had said that was funny. Nothing sprung to his immediate attention.

"All the other omegas are looking for mates." he clarified, looking up from under his lashes _way_ too coyly. "But I'm not because I don't need one."

Something sank in Castiel's gut in that moment, when he was slapped in the face with the reminder that his omega was right. Because he was already mated. _Of course_ he didn't need a mate. Rejection still stung like a bitch though, and they had only just started talking.

"You're right. Your mate seems more than competent. I should leave you be." Castiel murmured. He tried his best to keep his voice even but he wasn't sure he'd succeeded. 

"You're just gonna leave like that? Wait—my what?" sputtered the omega. "I don't have a mate! Where would you get that idea?" He looked panicked. What?

"Your Alpha... the one who keeps chasing everyone away from you..." The other centaur rolled his eyes then, visibly relieved.

"Ooh you mean my dumbass kid brother. No he's not my mate." he sighed. 

 _Brother?_ Cas kicked himself for even entertaining the idea of giving up on his true mate under the foolish assumption he was already taken. It was his _brother_. He could see it now he looked closer. Their interactions had been strictly platonic, Cas had just ran of with his alpha instincts and not stopped to look at the full picture.

Unaware of Castiel's small epiphany the flaxen centaur mumbled on.

"I mean the guy's just overprotective, and I can handle my own and everything, but why not let him get it out of his system, the less catcalls and cheesy pick up lines the better, I say." He gave Castiel a bright smile, that had the alpha in a world of his own all over again.

"Um... yes."

"So what was you name again, _Alpha_ " he said, in a teasing lilt. The genuine smile on his face showed there was no malice behind it.

"I'm Cas... and you?"

"Dean." 

He stretched his hand out in gesture of greeting and Castiel reached out, gripped his forearm and shook.

"Dean." repeated Cas. Dean sounded right. It fit well with the bright, white teeth and smooth bronzed skin. It fit well with the hope in this moment that sparked behind both blue and green eyes. However the moment was resoundingly broken with a growl of " If you wanna keep that arm I suggest you back the fuck away" breathed down Cas' neck.

Dean's 'kid brother' — the alpha built like a brick shit house — was stood behind the pair, breathing heavily in an apparent attempt to control his rage. The idea of taking him on sprang to mind — cas might not have size on his side but he was faster than most — but the look of plain dismay on Deans face, halted the thought in it's track.

Calmly, as if talking to a dangerous animal, Cas slowly breathed "I mean Dean no harm."

Sam was not appeased.

"It was my only intention to court your brother" Cas added. Dean's head snapped around at Cas, his eyes widening a fraction. Then he frowned, pulling his plump lower lip between his teeth.

Sam's breathing got heavier.

"You—you want to _court_ me, Cas?" Dean asked. "As in the leading to mating kind of courting, because I gotta say, that's not the package the other alphas want from me." And Goddess, he was starting to see Dean's brothers point of view. The calibre of alpha, Dean had met were scum. 

"I would like nothing more than to be your mate." Cas said with conviction, and like that, Dean straightened and beamed beautifully.

"Then I accept." 

In hindsight, Castiel thinks, they should have chosen to have that conversation away from an overprotective little brother. But being chased by a raging giant is another life lesson learnt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the worst writers block in the history of writers block, and I would have written some more, but then I'd be even more behind, so here's another chapter (I might do 4 chapters, or the last chapter will be huge.)  
>  **Please check the tags!!!**

Courting -- as far as it went in Dean's homeland tradition -- meant a series of assessments to judge his suitability as a mate.  _More trials_  Castiel thought with a sigh. Trials would be the death of him.

A courted omegas family would watch over and critic the courting alphas attributes and competence, and then would have the resounding vote of the acceptance or denial of the mating. In Deans case this was just Sam; and Sam had sported a dislike for Cas from the get go, so knowing his brother would most likely decline the offer regardless of the centaurs performance, Dean did his best to coax the idiot into letting his friends, and herd mates, Charlie, Kevin and Jo give input.

Sam had huffed at the notion for a while at trusting any old alpha with his brother, until Dean had cut him off with a glare, and a concealed cough of "Ruby."

Dean’s alpha brother had grumbled, yet Dean, on the other hand, was slower to make judgement on his prospective mate. From what he had seen -- and he hadn't seen much -- Cas seemed different to the other alphas. First was the soul deep happy butterfly feeling that he got from the very first time he had laid eyes on the centaur. Dean  _never_  got butterflies from alphas, or anyone really, so this was glaringly significant, although he didn't know what the feeling meant. Then there was the thing that Cas did when he thought Dean wasn't looking -- staring in wholehearted adoration. It was pretty clear to anyone he was completely smitten; he was continuously going out of his way to spend time the omega, even if near every attempt was thwarted by an angry Sam wearing a ' _touch him and I rip your arm off'_ look.  All that and he still didn't really know the dude, much to his disappointment. He was shocked he even felt disappointed. All of his emotions had been running a wreck since the festival, and he needed time to sit down and order them properly.

And while he was happier than he had been in the longest time, a bad feeling gnawed at him, a whisper in the back of his head saying this was all too good to be true,  _Cas_  was too good to be true, but he knew confiding in Sam would get the whole courting called off, and an even larger part of him didn't want that. Dean was slowly but surely starting to like the alpha, and like might soon blossom into something more, so Dean trusted his greater instincts and let it be.

 ♐

The first of three trials to be passed was the rite of fire. Castiel was sent to the cave of Cahra volcano, the only place in a thousand mile radius known to have fire opals. The alpha would return to his mate and award him the precious stone, in a symbol of the pair's strength.

It took a two day journey to reach Cahra volcano, and an indeterminable amount of time for Castiel to brave the volcano and retrieve a suitable stone, and the uncertainty of it all had Dean near sick with worry. Usually the rite of fire would be the last test for a courting couple, as it was the hardest and most dangerous, yet Sam had been more than eager in this rite being first. He had insisted, his eyes taking on a slight manic glint to them.

Now eight days had passed since Cas had left, and there was still no word from him.

It hadn’t taken long for the alphas to come back, sniffing around. Dean was a week or so away from a heat, a fact that both alphas and omegas could very much smell. His body was preparing itself, sensing Dean having found a potential mate, and releasing pre-heat pheromones accordingly. The changes in his body hadn’t much been a problem for Dean – his mind wasn’t in the right place to put together what was happening – which is why it took a particular asshole of an alpha to come to the realisation.

The aptly named, Dick, a smarmy looking black roan alpha, strode over self-assuredly, grinning lazily at Dean with calculating eyes. Dick had made it no secret from day one that desired Dean as his mate, not one to hold back on lewd comments, expressly supplying what he thought the ‘cock tease’ at regular intervals.

Dick was from a long lineage of wealthy alphas; his old money, in turn drew in a more than respectable queue of suitors – if being viewed as a knot hungry bitch was your thing –so why he persisted to harass Dean was beyond him. It had been made crystal clear that Dean was just _not interested_. Dick was just a... dick.

Whilst Dean liked to think he could hold his own against the alpha if and when the time came (he’d had never had the need to, what with Sam damn near chasing off even _mated_ alphas) now that it had registered that they were alone, he found himself anxious, his mind already high-strung and threadbare, fretting over his to-be mate. He didn’t need this.

The stagnant musk of alpha wafted over on the air as Dick slowed his stride to smooth down greasily slicked, brunet hair, then smirked slowly at Dean’s defensive posture.

“Sammy boys not around then, I take it?” he asked.

Met with Dean’s glare of indifference, he took the response as confirmation.

“Good, good. I wouldn’t want him to interrupt us”

Dean’s skin crawled at his tone, because interrupt them from _what_? A speedy exit all of a sudden seemed very appealing, but the other centaur must have caught his olive eyes darting behind his shoulders, because he lurched forward swiftly and shackled Dean’s wrists in his clammy hands.

“Let go of me, _Dick_.” Dean growled, “I don’t have time for your games.”

That wasn’t the answer the alpha had been looking for. His slimy grin faltered, dropped, to be replaced by brown eyes burning with rage. Dean had never seen him wear his emotions so readily before, it quite frankly scared him.

“Listen here, you little slut! You’ve been dancing around me, fluttering your pretty eyelashes and shaking your tight little ass at me for _months_! And then you come out smelling like a virgin bitch in heat, and you want me to _let go of you_? I think it’s about time I take what I deserve.” he snarled.

Dean’s heart turned to ice in an instant, his heart dropped to his stomach like lead. He’d been so preoccupied; he hadn’t even taken the time to notice his oncoming heat. A wave of shame overtook him as he pieced together why he’d been getting funny looks and crude remarks all day.  And Dean wasn’t dumb. He knew exactly what the alpha planned to ‘take’, whether he was welcome or not. A whimper escaped his lips as Dick took another step closer to inhale deeply from the crevice of his neck, a wash of foul breath and _wrong alpha wrong alpha_ following closely behind. It had dawned on Dean that this centaur wasn’t about to stop because Dean had asked nicely; he was going to take what he wanted. There was no one to stop him.

“Please.” Dean whined. “I have a mate.”

“What the deadbeat alpha that left to cahra and never came back? I think we both know that he’s not coming back.”

The omega squeezed his eyes shut tight, in an ever failing attempt to not even think about crying, though that familiar prickle behind his lids didn’t seem to care either way.

Now would be the best time to scream and run, a voice from the back of his head said, but Dick’s hold on his wrists were like impenetrable shackles, and when Dean took a deep breath, Dick clued in and clamped a sweaty palm over his mouth like a vice, alpha strength at play.

This was it, he thought, he was going to be raped.

And then, without warning he became aware of a low threatening growl filling the vicinity, which belonged to neither him nor the alpha. His heart thudded harder in his chest from the idea that another alpha wanted to take him, before his eyes flickered up to see his brother, chest heaving, visibly shaking from anger, ahead of lunging the distance between them to tear dick away from Dean with a roar.

Smart enough to know when a cause was lost, and in the wake of a livid protective alpha, Dick chose the wisest option before Sam had a chance to tear him apart, and sprinted with his tail firmly between his legs.

Sam gave start; to hunt the piece of scum alpha down and give him a taste of justice, but he chanced a glance at his brother and it was like a slap to the face. Sam’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

Dean was shuddering in tears, his body hunched over and curled into himself, hugging himself with his arms and absolutely reeking of fear. It was everything Sam had tried his whole life to never let happen. Dean with his huge heart, his outspokenness, and his acceptance of everyone no matter what, should never have to suffer the sins of an alpha. Even though, he doesn’t like Castiel, a small part of him will admit that Cas doesn’t want to do Dean any wrong—he looks at the omega like the sun shines out of his butt—and Sam had foolishly thought that Dean being a courted omega alone would sway the way he’s treated. Clearly not.

Sam wastes no time in wrapping the still shuddering omega in his arms and soothing down the goosebumps lying on his beautiful, freckled skin. He takes is large hands to wipe away Deans tears whispering _I’d never let anything happen to you, I love you, you’re safe now_.

From within the bubble of warmth, Sam hears “Don’t tell Cas.”

♐

Charlie greeted Dean with a pat on the shoulder, saying "Sam' writing a eulogy", which was definitely the wrong thing to say to a tightly strung Dean. His calm facade cracked down the middle as he burst into hysterical tears, rolling hot and heavy down his cheeks. The beta had to pull him into her arms and reassure him before there was any semblance of assuagement. She soothed him with soft coos as she rubbed him back in circles. “I didn’t mean it, Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it meant this much to you... you’ve never shown an interest in mating before.

 A renewed sob tore itself from the omegas throat as he chocked out “That’s because alphas have never wanted to _mate_ me! Cas _did_ , he was different, and look where that’s got him now. He’s never coming back.”

“He is coming back, hon, you’ll see. We all just have to wait a little longer.”

Dean sniffled some more, and rubbed at his puffy red eyes. “Just admit it already; he’s dead. His voice cracked a little on the last part.

“Who’s dead?” came an all too familiar voice. They both spun around on the spot and Dean cried out a relieved “Cas!” before leaping into his arms.

Cas smelled of overwhelmingly of brimstone and sulphur — Cahra’s mark on him — his normal alpha musk hidden under days worth of touring a dormant volcano, yet that didn’t dissuade Dean from burying his face in Cas’ neck on instinct, taking a deep inhale of his mate.

When they finally pulled apart, Charlie was gone, and Castiel only had eyes for him. The alpha smiled awkwardly, it only touched the corner of his mouth, but to Dean it was an oasis in an endless desert. “Hello, Dean.” The gruffness of his voice was a warm caress against his skin, reverberating to his core, to his soul. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel’s face suddenly lit up like a light bulb. He broke their staring contest to reach behind himself into his leather satchel, grunting as he lifted out of it a rock the size of Dean’s head, kneeling down and bowing his head to deposit it at Dean’s feet. “Your opal.” He declared, affirming the end of the fire trial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Thank you for all the kudos & comments guys!!!  
> They're like warm hugs and hot cocoa  
> ❤


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